(A/N): So hey, I actually did write something serious again. Yaaaaaaay. Mostly this was a giftfic for DigitalStarry on LJ, she requested a fic on Z-ONE and his old buddies as one of her presents on a Christmas wishlist meme. So I obliged since I've had this idea for a while: what if Z-ONE had lied to Bruno, Paradox, and Aporia about Momentum responding to the greed of humans, rather, it only responded to the despair of Yuusei himself after the rest of his friends died around him and he acquired the rest of their marks? I always thought he had some kind of connection to the Momentum, especially after falling into it way back when. They need to have SOME result of that plotline other than generic "meet the dead daddy" scenario. So yeah, enjoy!
The last thing he remembers is seeing their lifeless corpses, all strewn about.
He remembers before that-the sudden onslaught of those strange machines, the numerous explosions, seeing each and every one of them fall around him, one by one, over painfully long intervals. Just as it seemed that he could perhaps try to move on, make something worth of their loss, another would fall.
Because he had failed to protect them all. He was the only one left.
There was screaming. He knows that. Probably his. He can't quite remember. It was starting to get hazy.
Then the pain, something carving itself into a circle on his back. Pain that he should have recognized, but didn't. Why didn't he? Perhaps because at the time it seemed impossible to him. They were all dead. Their marks should have passed on to others. Not to him. Not to the one who couldn't protect them.
But they did, and with such an intensity as if they were burning into raw, untouched levels of the skin. Like when his mark first became permanent all those years ago.
Then again, he wasn't aware of much else than the pain, not so aware of what was happening, certainly not enough to be able to analyze it. Who knows if it was the same. He didn't.
Nor did he know of the tugging in his mind, his body, traces of Momentum that still lingered in his muscles after that incident of so many years ago, responding to the generators. The generators that suddenly stopped, then turned again, just as the mark finished its transition onto his back.
They turned and turned, tearing up everything, losing the world around them in large flashes of light that obliviated all from sight, the bodies evaporating into nothing.
And then there was darkness.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Looking back now, he wondered how he could have survived.
...No. He knew how. He wondered why. Surely there were others more deserving of existence than him.
As he thought, he did the only thing that occured to him. Wandering, picking up what he could find, anything that seemed like a probable answer to...anything, really. And so the odds and ends piled up, untill it actually occurred to him to actually do something with them.
It was hard to remember what each thing did. Too much to think about, too much pain to try to think through, too many what ifs. What if he put this part here, or this there? What if this turned that way, as opposed to this way? What if he was strong enough to keep this from happening in the first place?
Too many.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-
He spent a long time on his work in that place, that Old Momentum. It was the best place to find things where he needed...even if he still felt guilt about this place. This place where it first spun out of control. A precursor to what would happen. As much as it hurt to remember, he still did. He could connect the dots, how his back throbbed when he was in its presence, how connected his body still was to the old generator. How it felt like the massive thing seemed to respond with every swing in his emotions, even while still inactive.
And so he stopped trying to feel. Retreated back into himself and let nothing show outside as he continued to work on something (an indescript something that just hovered on the edge of his mind, some shapless robotic mass that would help somebody live somehow) that he couldn't quite name, couldn't quite pin down the use of.
Even with his isolation, he never really registered how truly alone he was. He couldn't.
It would make everything he did pointless if he had.
-0-0-0-0-0-
How long he had lived in the armored plates, he didn't know. Only that it was a temporary solution, one that ran on the Momentum in his mark (something that made him eternally remorseful, using the destructive force for his own benifits), but too fragile to last long. Only long enough for him to wander away for more supplies, for sadly, they were running low. Even the Old Momentum site, the place where it was discovered, could only hold so many tools.
It was how he had found the others: Glass, Paradox, Aporia. Others who had been convinced that they were as alone as he. Others who had been gladdened, relieved, to find another who understood them, lived like them, were alive.
Only they weren't quite alive themselves. They had all lost their spark, their hope, were all filled with despair. And with all despair comes the inevitable question: Why? Why did this have to happen? What could they have done to stop it?
It was too easy to seek his end here. Too easy to simply say: "It was me, my power caused this, if only I was stronger this never would have happened," and have all chances end here. To decide that enough was enough, he couldn't rebuild anything out of this, that he should just join those lost ones he could barely remember now and fail them, just so he wouldn't have to go through this any longer.
Except he didn't. He couldn't say why. Perhaps he was a coward. Perhaps he was afraid to die.
Perhaps he just didn't want to kill all their chances of hope while they still had the courage to at least ask why.
"I believe...I know why."
-0-0-0-0-0-
At least he had told them something that resembled the truth. Had told them about Momentum spinning and going out of control because it reacted to the negative feelings of (a human) humans. Had said that perhaps the overuse of Synchro Summoning, the power of the stars, the power of Momentum, had keyed in the humans too much to the systems, and when the Anti-Synchro Emporers attacked, those feelings had come to a head.
The three had accepted this theory of his, although they had queried about his identity, how he had known about Momentum. He merely responded that he had rather forgotten his name, having no one to call him by it, and they accepted that without question. They knew the feeling. As for the Momentum, he admitted that he knew of the power source somewhat intimately, enough to connect the dots, and that he wished to destroy any remaining traces of it in hopes of being able to start anew.
They approved of this heartily, and immediately started contributing their help, in a surprisingly enthusiastic matter. Perhaps they were merely happy to have some sort of purpose again. Regardless, he felt gladdened that he could give them this much, at least. He was scared to give more. Feeling guilt over his deception, he retreated permanently to the more solid structure he had formed out of his old, now unusable D-Wheel, its Momentum engine connected to his own limitless source. He desperately wished to make similar life support for the others, and did attempt-but it failed them as it refused to fail him. They were untainted with the destructive force, purer than him...he could not begrudge them for that.
Rather than being dismayed, however, they seemed to renew their trust in him, assuring him that the device was a sign that he could change the future. He couldn't tell them what this machine truly was: his cowardice, his solitude, his inabilty to die, eternal punishment for failing to be strong, even for the last ones on Earth.
And in the end he wasn't strong enough to keep them. They began to die, one by one, yet again as he watched their bodies fail before him, as he saw so many others. His last friends.
And to the end, they kept telling him that he could change the future. Enough so that he strove to find a way to make the lie a reality, for them. So that they wouldn't have to believe in lies.
"Do you...truly believe this? Do you truly believe in me?" "We do. Our friend...you are our friend." -FIN- (A/N): Well, hope this return to serious things was enjoyable~.